


Dullahan

by querxes



Series: Czernobog [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - John Wick (Movies) Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Violence, Catholicism, Child Exploitation, F/F, Gen, Gun Violence, Irish Jack Kelly, Jewish David Jacobs, Judaism, Latino Jack Kelly, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Polish David Jacobs, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/querxes/pseuds/querxes
Summary: “You’re a demon dragged all the way outta hell on your own. I guess you and Jacobs are justperfectfor each other,” he sneered, carelessly waving around his handgun as if it were an extension of himself. “We already got the Czernobog, now what do we callyou?”Jack and David Jacobs-Kelly desperately try to reconnect to the life they had been dragged out of, but the threat of an unpaid debt looms over David, and in consequence, Jack. What happens when even the purest start to lose their grip on humanity, when they find themselves with no choice but to pick up the gun and pull the trigger?
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Past Albert Dasilva/Finch, Past Crutchie/David Jacobs, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Czernobog [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807120
Comments: 14
Kudos: 17





	Dullahan

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel of my John Wick au, Czernobog. If you have not read that, please read it first before you read this. Absolutely nothing will make sense and chances are, you will get spoiled.
> 
> It is not necessary to know the plot of John Wick or the sequel to read these. In fact, please feel free to ignore them for now because this will be splitting off in multiple ways from the source material.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings are listed in the end notes.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.”

A small crowd of people gathered around in a circle in the cemetery, heads bowed down low on shoulders adorned with dark clothing. The minister’s words were nearly washed away by the heavy rainfall that rolled down their umbrellas and collected in puddles in the grass around their feet. David stood silently, Jack’s arm hooked into his as they stood under their umbrella next to the casket. Rain dripped off the umbrella onto their jacket sleeves, but neither of them flinched at the frigid chill it sent through their spines. 

The minister continued to read from the passage, holding the fine pages aloft with fingers trembling from his older age and the bitter cold. He squinted behind his fogged-up reading glasses. “God himself will be with them; he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

The minister closed his Bible, and a hush fell over the crowd. He glanced around the crowd of forlorn and withdrawn faces, then he nodded at the cemetery workers and backed away. David felt numb as he gently tossed the rose clenched in his grasp upon the slowly descending casket. A few of the others followed suit, wandering off into the cemetery as it sank lower and lower into the ground. Jack and David stood for a few more fleeting moments before Jack ushered them away to let the cemetery workers finish their jobs.

“Come on,” he said, pressing a hand to the small of David’s back. 

They passed gravestones adorned with crosses and bold names and dates etched across them, hearts pounding in their throats. Familiar faces flashed around David, boys he once knew who had turned into men seemingly overnight. He dared to make eye contact with few, nodding his head in respect and continuing on in his own direction. Jack walked beside him and stayed silent, catching the knowing glances that they seemed to attract like moths to flame. Jack swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. David’s flesh crawled under the hot, accusing stares raking across his exposed back.

Along the line of cars sitting alongside the cemetery road, David spotted a familiar set of blond and jet black curls standing side-by-side while clasping onto a black umbrella together. The pair stood waiting, outer hands shoved in their pockets as they hunched their necks over in quiet discussion.

The shorter of the two saw them coming first. He muttered something to the blond, who straightened his back and caught their gaze.

“Race,” David nodded once they were at a speaking distance. “Spot.”

Spot nodded back, eyes dark and conflicted. “Jacobs.”

“Heya, Dave,” Race’s eyes flickered over to Jack. “It’s really good to see the two of ya. I know it’s a shitty time, but...” he drifted off.

Jack shoved a hand into his pocket, pursing his lips. 

David nodded and clenched onto their umbrella so tight that his knuckles turned white. “I think we need to talk.”

“Why don’t we bring this over to the shop?’ Race offered. “This really isn’t the place, and I don’t wanna,” Race trailed off, glancing back at the funeral workers. He cleared his throat, shaking his head firmly. “This ain’t the place for this kinda conversation.”

“We’ll meet you there, then.” David agreed.

The pair trailed further up the line until they reached their rental car. Jack folded up the umbrella and threw it in the back seat, sinking into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. David’s heart clenched painfully one last time as he raked his eyes over the still graveyard. The only sound next to the fall of rain and crunching of gravel and dirt was the big church bell tolling mournfully up ahead. A sharp pang struck through his head and he slammed his eyelids shut. 

It wasn’t until he ducked his head into the car that he realized he was soaking wet from the rain. He tried to squeeze some of the moisture from his hair, wincing as he felt the back of his head touch the headrest.

“You okay?” 

It took more seconds than it should’ve for David to realize Jack was talking to him. Jack stared at him with wide, concerned eyes, fixating on the muscles jumping in David’s neck.

David glanced back over at Jack and swallowed hard. He nodded jerkily, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to speak.

Jack didn’t look convinced. “Maybe I should drive.” He went to take off his seatbelt.

_ “No.” _ David gripped the steering wheel. “I can drive. I’m fine.”

Jack paused, retracting his hands from the seat belt buckle. “Okay.” He looked ready to protest, but didn’t push any further. Instead, he reached across and rubbed the tension out of David’s wrist. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“Yeah,” David muttered, sliding the key into the ignition.

* * *

“You mind if I smoke?” Race raised a questioning eyebrow toward Jack, balancing an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“Go ahead,” Jack allowed, waving a dismissive hand before clasping his hands in front of him in a vice-like grip. 

Race raised the cigarette to his lips and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin lighter. He lit the cigarette as it hung between his lips.

They gathered around Race’s workbench, the shop unusually empty and quiet for the occasion. For several moments, they sat in complete silence and listened to the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof.

Race sighed, puffing out clouds of smoke. “I needa fuckin’ quit,” he murmured quietly. “It was, ah. It was Al that got me into it in the first place.”

A clock ticked somewhere in the back of the shop. Motor oil dripped in a puddle under one of the cars next to them. The rain clashed on the roof loudly. David suddenly realized how hot it was in the shop, in his suit and tie.

Race continued, voice tight in grief. “Remember, Dave, he snuck your aunt’s pack of cigarettes outta her bag when she wasn’t paying any attention?”

David looked down at his hands. “She definitely was paying attention. She told me she saw him do it, but she thought it was funny so she let him. I was the one who had to buy a new pack for her. Albert was lucky I didn’t make him pay for them.” David snorted painfully. “You too, actually, since you smoked them all with him.”

“Trust me, I’m paying with a lifetime addiction to these fuckin’ cancer sticks,” Race scoffed.

David fixated on the grease stain on the floor next to his dress shoes. “I—um. I haven’t heard anything about Albert’s funeral.” He coughed tightly.

“Nah, I can’t say we have either,” Race drawled lowly, picking at the skin on his fingers. “Finch isn’t letting anyone come to the service, it ain’t just you. He’s really fucked up over it,” he grimaced. “The guys ‘round the shop say he offed seven of his men for even mentioning Al. He’s fuckin’ snapped.”

Spot gazed off somewhere in the distance. “We think he’s gonna start isolating his group, it don’t sound like he’s doin’ any more deals for anyone.”

Jack’s brows knit themselves together. “You think he might—”He trailed off, glancing at David from the corner of his eye. David kept his head down.

Spot caught the look. “We haven’t heard any crazy revenge plots,” he said. Then, he shook his head. “He’s smart enough to understand that’s a fight he can’t win.”

David’s stomach dropped. 

Finch Cortez was a force to be reckoned with while he wasn’t grief-stricken, he was brutish yet calculated, smart as a whip and charming as hell. He was the only one out of them all to make up a family made of stragglers and lead it completely on his own, assigning himself judge, jury, and executioner over them. How would Finch be without Albert to remind him of his humanity?

A nagging voice in the back of David’s head reminded him that he was the one who left Albert in the hotel room with Tommy Boy. He stifled a shudder.

“Uh, there’s something else.” Race stood up and paced over to the cars covered with tarps. “You’re not gonna believe this.” Counting down the line, he stopped at the third car and slid the tarp off, attempting to smirk back at them.

Both Davey and Jack shot out of their chairs.

“How did you— _ What?!” _

Their 1969 Ford Mustang Coupe sat in front of them, looking sleek as ever. The Charcoal Grey paint practically glistened under the LED lights of the garage. It looked exactly how they had remembered it, only now it had felt like something out of a distant dream.

Race countered their pacing as Spot sat back and explained. “We got a tip from someone that it was in the middle of Connecticut, we couldn’t trace the phone call or nothin’ but we sent a couple guys over just in case. Turns out, they were tellin’ the truth,” he snorted.

Race stepped back as Jack and David inspected the car. “Best guess, the remainder of the Snyder family decided it wasn’t worth keeping or didn’t want to risk you lookin’ around for it.”

“They couldn’t afford another blow,” Spot added. “Who knows who they’re gonna put on top. They might have to merge with another German family if they wanna survive.”

David straightened, leaning a palm against the hood of the car. “The Charger’s trashed. It got destroyed when I went after Snyder. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, it’s just been—”

“You’ve been busy,” Race sympathised. “We get it, really. Don’t worry about the fuckin’ car, anyway. You know how many Chargers we got around here?” He raised his eyebrows. “Wait. Spot, how many Chargers  _ do  _ we have?”

“Twenty-seven, last time I checked inventory,” Spot chortled. “Most popular car we got here. This ain’t even a fuckin’ dealership an’ we still get stuck with ‘em. Why do ya think we sent ya with one?”

“Really. It’s no big deal, we always cover for friends. You’s _ hardly _ the most expensive friend we do business with here,” Race chortled. “Why dontcha take her for a drive? The two’a ya? See if she still feels the same?”

For the first time in a week, David let his lips twitch upward. 

Jack beamed like the sun. “Why the hell not?”

* * *

The house was blissfully quiet when they let themselves sink onto the couch, their ties loosened and jackets strewn over the chairs. Pacem laid down, curled up in a ball on their sofa as she dozed the rainy day away. Her black fur was mussed up from adjusting her sleeping position so many times. She snored gently, the hint of a snaggle tooth poking out of her mouth.

David watched her with drooping eyes, following the rise and fall of her chest carefully.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, keeping his voice as soft as he could get it.

Davey sighed, gazing up at their grandiose ceiling. He winced slightly at the strain in his neck, and Jack helped him lay down and place his head in Jack’s lap. He closed his eyes and crooned gently at the feeling of Jack’s hands running through his hair.

“I’m gonna be,” he answered, and he tried to take comfort in the warmth surrounding him that pushed against the cold ache in his chest.

* * *

They had fixed the cement down in the basement and covered the crates full of weapons and blood money that Davey had cracked open a week ago. Then, they locked the door and Davey steered clear from that side of the house. Curiously enough, Jack found himself lingering toward it on a couple different occasions, but he knew to keep the door shut and put it out of mind. 

What he did instead was get his own gun and go practice at a nearby range, because that wasn’t as bad as using Davey’s old murder weapons. At least he could write it off as a new hobby when the neighbors asked about it. If they were concerned about Jack picking up a newer, more violent hobby after him and his husband disappeared for nearly a week, they certainly didn’t show it. The polite old man and woman just waved and smiled when he would pass by them on his way to the range, or to the store, or to God knows wherever else.

Davey knew what Jack was doing. He absolutely knew that Jack was practicing the best ways to murder another human being, and Davey didn’t like it. He saw the way the muscle jumped in Davey’s throat when he saw Jack packing up the back of their car. Jack wondered if that was where the tension had started building. Maybe it started building when Jack asked to sleep with the light on in the bedroom for a third night, maybe it started building when Davey would drift off and snap back to reality expecting to see Charlie’s green eyes and blond hair instead of Jack’s dark eyes and brown hair. Maybe it was just slowly pissing Jack off when Davey kept promising he’d get better, like it was something that would just magically.

Jack didn’t know. He just knew what they were doing wasn’t good, and it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t working. Damnit, Jack was trying not to let it bother him. He knew, rationally, he was still reeling from being locked up and isolated for days on end, and Davey had gone through a lot to get him back. Davey was still reeling too, and he knew it wasn’t Charlie’s or Davey’s fault. Jack shouldn’t be blaming a dead man for anything to begin with.

Going down the line, all of it was Jack’s fault. If he had just died like he was supposed to, Davey would still have his family. He would still have people who cared about him, even in the shitty environment he existed in. He wouldn’t be stuck in this damn house with just Jack to keep him company, just Jack to love him, just Jack to show him affection. 

Or maybe Davey would’ve eventually snapped under the pressure of being the Czernobog. Davey didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve Jack thinking it was all about himself, either. If Davey was sparing in smiles nowadays, Jack couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Davey had never left that mess of an underground.

Jack could run in circles in his mind for hours, he could shoot at the range until he ran out of ammunition and patience. 

If there was one thing Jack knew, it was that he was starting to miss Davey.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Funerals, mentions of murder, gun use, smoking, language
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments, or come yell at me on tumblr @thetruthabouttheboy or my main @querxes


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